Cryptid Proof
by your.kat
Summary: While searching for proof of the Loch Ness monster - and other legendary creatures - Quinn meets Rachel. As Quinn leaves the woman she has already begun to fall for, Rachel assures her that they'll meet again. "Epic love in the making, Quinn! Epic. Love."
1. Nessie

**Cryptid Proof  
>Creature #1: Nessie<strong>

Quinn sat on the shore of Loch Ness. She was situated on top of one of the larger rocks that covered the beach. Her bare feet pressed flat against the smooth, cold surfaces of the pebbles in front of her. Cool air blew off of the loch, whipping the hair that had fallen from her messy bun all around her face. She drew the folds of her jacket more securely around her chest, attempting to ward off the chill. And still, her eyes refused to look away from the mostly calm, undisturbed waters of the loch. Her camera sat to her right, next to her thigh – untouched, and with an entirely blank memory card to show for her time.

Ever since Quinn was a little girl, something about the unknown had been thrilling to her. She would watch the History Channel for hours at a time, her young intellect absorbing all manner of alien sightings and supposed hoaxes and even fancying flights of wishful thinking. But there was always one area of study that had fascinated Quinn far above and beyond all others: cryptozoology.

Her family, of course, had been shocked and appalled when she double-majored in zoology and anthropology. They didn't understand what the hell she could possibly accomplish with such _'foolhardy disciplines'_ as her father had called them. _'Go to Columbia, Quinnie,_' he had said. '_I know people on the admissions committee. We'll have you in law school in no time. No time at all'_. But Quinn had passed on her father's offer, obviously.

She put herself through undergrad – and then through a doctoral program. But Quinn pursued these levels of higher education not because she really believed in what she had been doing, but because she hoped that having the _PhD_ title after _Fabray_ would lend some credence to her future discoveries. Because some people called it _pseudoscience_, but Quinn called it _truth_. And someday, she would prove the existence of legendary creatures such as _Chupacabra _and _Bigfoot_ – and when she did, her father could shove his_ foolhardy _law degree down his throat.

The waters rippled against the shore. A few pieces of driftwood occasionally became lodged in the rocks, dropped there by the receding waves as they departed. Quinn didn't look down as she reached to pick up her camera – even the briefest moment of looking away could mean a missed glimpse, and Quinn wasn't willing to risk that. She brought the lens to her eye, peeking through the zoom and eagerly scanning from right to left across the loch and towards the horizon where the sun was swiftly setting.

As Quinn's camera shifted completely across the landscape, ending up on Quinn's far left, she noticed a figure in her sights. It wasn't a lake monster – as was obviously Quinn's first instinct to assume – but another woman. She had a pair of binoculars held up to her eyes and, as Quinn watched, lowered them to hang from her neck as she turned and began walking along the beach.

Unknowingly, it seemed, the stranger was walking in Quinn's direction. However, her eyes never left the choppy lake waters. The wind was blowing harder now, and Quinn failed to suppress a giggle as the lady's hat suddenly flew off of her head. Quinn heard the faint echo of a shriek carried towards her on the wind as she watched the woman turn and run after the hat, but after only a few yards, it quickly became apparent that her chase was a lost cause. The hat was long gone.

Quinn could almost picture the pout on the other woman's face as she turned back around, _stomping_ her foot petulantly before continuing on her previous path. Quinn smiled. Before long, the woman again seemed to simply be taking a leisurely stroll along the shore of the loch, her eyes fixated on the shifting waters. As she got closer, Quinn could discern that the woman had dark hair, seemed to be a bit on the short side of things, and was wearing khaki shorts and a burgundy pullover. _Good thing it's nearly summer_, Quinn thought, _or else she'd be freezing that cute little ass off._

The woman continued to get closer to Quinn, and Quinn had become so distracted by the way the other woman carried herself that she hadn't realized that it had been several minutes since she herself had even glanced in the direction of the water. The sun would be setting soon, and this was her last night here. This was her last chance – until next year, of course – that Quinn could catch a glimpse of the Loch Ness monster. She came every year and would stay for two weeks, doing little more than eating the occasional meal provided by her lovely, longtime friend Patsy, sleeping, and gazing out at the water from various vantage points. This particular stretch of beach had always been Quinn's favorite, so she saved it for last every year.

It turned out that Quinn was not the only one distracted. Before she could so much as call out a warning, the other woman had tripped on a piece of driftwood that she had been walking straight at for the past several minutes, at least. Her arms flailed dramatically in front of her, and Quinn could have sworn the lady was suddenly in slow motion as she flew through the air, entirely off the ground for a moment before landing with an unflattering _thud_ amidst the rock and sand of the beach.

Wincing to herself, Quinn quickly hopped up off of her rock and slipped her shoes on, swinging her camera's strap over her neck and heading quickly towards the damsel in distress. She leapt easily from rock to rock, never missing a step or slipping on the slick, wet surface of the stones as she got closer to where the waves were breaking on the shore.

As she reached the woman, Quinn couldn't help but smile. She had rolled over onto her back and was lying in a spread eagle position, limbs extended far out from her sides. She was breathing rather heavily as she suddenly started to chuckle to herself. Quinn was very worried that she had hit her head on a rock.

"Hey, are you ok?" Quinn questioned once she was only a couple of feet from the sprawled out figure. Quinn raised her eyebrow as she hopped across the woman's legs and bent down with her hands on her knees.

The woman tilted her head to the side, glancing quizzically at Quinn with a goofy grin forming on her face. She reached down and lifted her binoculars to her eyes, pointing them in Quinn's direction and adjusting the focus briefly. Quinn blushed. The woman lowered the binoculars and said, "Yep! My binoculars are still functioning. All is right in the world!" She stuck her hand out abruptly, her grin turning into a full-fledged _beaming _smile, "Hello, by the way! My name is Rachel, Rachel Berry!"

Quinn couldn't help but smile and laugh incredulously at the sight of Rachel, Rachel Berry sticking her hand up towards Quinn's face, still lying flat out against the rocks of the shore of Loch Ness. Never before had Quinn experienced such a strange encounter – and she was in the _business_ of strange encounters. Chuckling, Quinn took the offered hand and shook it. "Hi, Rachel Berry. It's nice to meet you. My name is Quinn Fabray." She almost said _PhD_ at the end of her name, but suppressed the instinctive – and oftentimes awkward – urge. This Rachel Berry character didn't seem like the kind of person to be impressed by titles.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you as well, Quinn Fabray!" Rachel said with a dopey grin, still shaking Quinn's hand.

Quinn chuckled again. It seemed as if Rachel always talked in exclamations. "Are you hurt?" Quinn questioned.

Rachel released Quinn's hand – which caused Quinn to suddenly feel all sorts of cold and empty – and began patting herself down. First her wrists and then her chest (Quinn giggled) and then her hips and thighs before she held her legs straight up in the air and wiggled her ankles around. "Nope!" she exclaimed. "Everything seems to be in working order! Mind helping me up?"

"No problem," Quinn replied, again taking the girl's hand in her own and helping to leverage her into a standing position. Immediately, Quinn noticed that the girl was quite a bit shorter than she was. But her eyes and her smile and her perfect skin at this close range were frigging dangerous. Quinn licked her lips.

"I would ask you what brings you out here, but seeing as you're a fellow American, I'm sure it's not the rolling Scottish highlands." Rachel smiled, and Quinn melted. But just a little bit.

"You're right, it's definitely not the highlands. Though those are quite lovely this time of year."

Rachel beamed some more as her eyes continued to bore into Quinn's. Quinn would have found it disconcerting if it hadn't actually been so terribly comforting. Neither girl had glanced at the waves in several minutes now. "Nessie hasn't made herself known tonight, unfortunately," Rachel said, sighing wistfully. She patted her binoculars and said, "What I wouldn't give for a sighting!"

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed as she briefly checked Rachel out – NO – as she… As she looked Rachel over, searching for a camera. "Why don't you have a camera?" Quinn asked.

Now it was Rachel's turn to look confused. "Why on earth would I need a camera?" she answered the question with one of her own.

"What do you mean, _why on earth would you need a camera? _If you see her, wouldn't you want _proof?_"

"I don't need proof!" Rachel smiled again. "I would just like to see."

She said it so simply that Quinn momentarily didn't know what to say at all. She was – quite literally – speechless. "Huh," she eloquently managed eventually.

Suddenly, there was a loud _thump_ and giggling from several paces away from where they stood. Where the beach of rocks ended and rolling, beautiful grass began, there suddenly came the sound of _giggling_ and general bouts of merriment.

"What… did you hear that?" Rachel questioned. She looked frightened, and she was clutching at her binoculars as if prepared to use them as a weapon at the slightest notice.

Quinn rolled her eyes at the noises. It _was _their last day here, after all. She probably shouldn't be too hard on them…

"Yes," she moaned dramatically, "I heard it." She swung her head back around to Rachel from where she had been staring at the grassy knoll. "That's actually uhhh… Well, that's my documentary crew." She felt bashful saying the words _documentary crew_ to Rachel, the girl who had just explained that she was looking for the Loch Ness monster but had no intentions of taking a picture once she caught sight of her.

"You don't say…" Rachel muttered under her breath as her eyes slowly shifted from the direction of the giggling and back towards Quinn. But Quinn was more than a little relieved when she saw only mirth in Rachel's eyes and not judgment. "Documentary crew, eh? How long do you plan on being here to get a good glimpse of Nessie?"

Quinn sighed and glanced once more out towards the water. It was practically twilight now, and it wouldn't be until sometime around midnight when the moon was high in the sky that more optimal sightings could potentially take place. "Two weeks, but today is our last day. I'll probably stay out until the moon is gone. I think capturing the creature in the moonlight would be crazy beautiful," she said as she turned back to stare down into Rachel's eyes.

"You're right," Rachel said. "A midnight sighting of Nessie would be pretty spectacular!" Her eyes shifted again towards the location of the previous giggles – now moans and pants and other exceedingly awkward sounds including one woman moaning out _'Ohhh, baby!'_ before more moans and such. "Uhh, shall we walk along the beach a little further? I feel as if we should give…" Rachel trailed off, not knowing the names – or the number, really – of Quinn's crew.

"Brittany and Santana," Quinn supplied.

"Right, Brittany and Santana. We should probably give them some privacy."

"Puh-lease, they practically kicked me out of our bathroom last night so they could have shower sex. I don't owe them anything." But Quinn's words were deceived by the smile on her face, and she had already started walking along the beach with Rachel anyway.

They talked as they walked, and Quinn found the last fading rays of the setting sun to cast the most _stunning _glow on Rachel's face that she had ever seen. Rachel, she soon discovered, was capable of talking a mile a minute and was very fond of not watching where she was going. Several times, Quinn had to stop her from stepping in a crack or tripping on more driftwood. A couple of times, she even had to reach out and wrap her arms around Rachel's slender waist when the girl took a misstep. And those moments where Quinn's arms were around the other woman were the most difficult – because Quinn found herself not really wanting to let go.

Finally, they reached what seemed to be a decent vantage point. The beach had sloped upwards, and there was a rather large boulder at its peak. As Rachel hurried forward to scramble up the side of the boulder to take a seat, Quinn's eyes widened and she fretfully moved closer to catch Rachel when she would inevitably fall. Which she did. Twice.

Ten minutes later, they were both sitting atop the boulder. Rachel's knees were drawn up to her chest, and Quinn thought she looked utterly adorable with her binoculars pressed to her face, even though there wasn't anything to see yet – it would be a couple of hours before the moon was at its highest, and only then would they really have good visibility. But she didn't say that to Rachel, because she didn't want to interrupt the other girl's story about her struggles with airport security in New York City on her way here.

"…And I just couldn't get them to understand! I really just think the attractive female TSA officer wanted to pat me down. So I guess that's understandable, she can't really be blamed…"

Quinn expected to hear some tone of playfulness in Rachel's voice at those words, but she was instead completely serious and straight-faced, dropping her binoculars back down around her neck where they rested against her thighs. She turned her head, cocking it slightly to the side with a sweet smile on her lips before asking, "Any airport horror stories, Quinn?" Quinn just shook her head, eyes sparkling. "Well, I wish I were so lucky as you, my friend!"

Silence eventually settled around them, broken intermittently by the sounds of insects or frogs or even once by the playful shouts of Brittany and Santana a little way down the beach where Quinn and Rachel had left them. Occasionally, they would ask each other questions, learning more about each other little by little.

By an hour or so after midnight – with the moon at its highest point in the sky, glancing brilliantly off the waters of Loch Ness – Quinn and Rachel were so engrossed in each other that they never saw the telescopic-like neck and head of Nessie protrude from the water.

Brittany and Santana had snuck up behind the girls on their boulder, and they jumped out with shared _'Boo!'_s, startling the others and causing Rachel to scream at the top of her lungs.

Nessie's head swiveled in the moonlight to stare momentarily at the shore before huffing air out of her nostrils in a seemingly irritated gesture before diving back down. _Humans,_ she thought as she submerged fully under the calm surface of the water. _Can't live with 'em, pass the beer nuts… _And then she was gone.

The night passed quickly and was full of introductions and stories and laughter and rare moments of silence, broken only by the waves lapping against the shore. Quinn tried not to let her smile completely overtake her face as Rachel scooted closer to her for warmth at one point, their thighs pressing together and sending delicious tingles all over her body. Eventually, however, Quinn looked down at her watch and immediately became distraught at the time. They had to leave in an hour if they ever wanted to catch their flight on time. And they couldn't afford to miss it.

Rachel noticed the look on Quinn's face. "You have to leave soon," she said, and it wasn't a question.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, we have to go home." She couldn't bring herself to say much more. But the words were there, unspoken – _'I don't want to leave you. What if I never see you again?'_

Santana and Brittany had already headed back to Patsy's where their stuff needed to be packed when Rachel suddenly set her shining eyes and brilliant smile on Quinn. "We'll see each other again, Quinn, I'm sure! The universe has this funny way of making things such as this work out."

"Things such as this?" Quinn asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her voice.

"Epic love in the making, Quinn! Epic. Love."

The plane circled low as it made its initial ascent away from Scotland, and Quinn caught a glimpse of the huge lake she knew was Loch Ness. She grinned as she pictured a stunning brunette full of hope and smiles and optimism walking along the beach. As the plane evened out and Quinn lost sight of the waters below, she hoped that, if nothing else, Rachel would watch her step a little better from now on.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So this is going to be a relatively short multi-chapter story, each chapter being a dedication to Quinn's exploration as she searches for various cryptids (don't worry, I had to wiki it, too). I have seven cryptids picked out in addition to Nessie, so they will be written eventually (and that also means seven more chapters)! This is (obviously, I hope) going to be primarily Faberry with a side helping of Brittana (primarily Horny!Brittana, secondarily Obnoxious!Brittana). Hope you enjoyed!_


	2. Yeti

_A/N: I feel like I should apologize, since most of this is utterly absurd. __**INSTEAD**__, I will tell you to… Enjoy!_

**Cryptid Proof  
>Creature #2: Yeti<strong>

"Skepticism is _fine_, Santana. Skepticism is what will help us rock the scientific community when we get this footage!" Quinn was moving methodically back and forth from the shelf next to her desk to the heavy duty case resting on its surface. She was collecting their cameras, lenses, tripods, memory cards, laptop with global satellite capabilities, and a DVD of _The Goonies_. It was Brittany's favorite. "By the way," Quinn said, stopping and turning on her heels to face Santana as the girl lounged back on Quinn's sofa. "Shouldn't _you _be packing? That _is _what I pay you for, right?"

"Oh come on, Quinn," Santana scoffed, examining the nails of her left hand. "Your research grant pays me."

"Yeah well, you're working for me, _honey_. So get up off your ass and go make sure your lover didn't have any issues collecting the weather data for the next two weeks." Santana sighed exaggeratedly before hauling herself up and heading out the study door. "And make sure to confirm our airline tickets!" Quinn shouted at her retreating figure. Santana merely answered with a haughtily waved hand over her shoulder.

Quinn chuckled as she turned back to her work. She gave Santana a hard time but, even though Santana was her go-to camera woman, the cameras were near and dear to Quinn's heart. So ensuring that they were packed securely before the twenty-hour trip halfway around the world wasn't really the inconvenience Quinn made it out to be.

The semester in which Quinn defended her doctoral dissertation – an all-encompassing research study of the past, present, and future of cryptozoology and its significance – she had been able to remain grounded solely through the blossoming friendship she had formed with Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce (and _insane _amounts of coffee). Brittany had been an art and film student while Santana had primarily been focused on the technical aspects behind cinematography. It hadn't taken long for Quinn to see the magnificence behind the girls' relationship – Brittany, with her keen eye for beauty and detail (when she focused), and Santana, with her mastery of taking the perfect shot and making it just _work_… Well, they had mad skills, and Quinn hadn't wasted much time at all in recruiting them to her "team".

"_I've already procured a five-year grant," Quinn said. And she truly had – her meticulous and emotional way with words had easily swayed the committee into giving her the funding. "Now I just need the perfect team. And you guys," she said, gesturing to the girls sitting in front of her on their couch with their fingers laced together, "are it. I can feel it. I can feel it all the way down to my bones. We're going to discover things that people have only ever dreamed of discovering before, and it's going to be amazing!"_

They had said yes, obviously, and the past three years had been a whirlwind of world travel and amazing experiences. But it had also been a humbling journey – with harddrives upon harddrives full of useless footage, back aches and frostbite, nasty sicknesses ("I _told_ you not to drink the water, Lopez!"), and – for some – diminishing optimism and increased skepticism. Cough, Santana, cough. But Quinn was something of a kickass Fearless Leader, and she wasn't giving up hope, so neither was her crew. A part of Quinn knew that she would _never_ give up hope, and not even because she was afraid of failure. Quinn wouldn't give up because she knew that, somewhere, there was a little kid sitting at home sick from school watching History Channel documentaries about Bigfoot and Nessie and they _needed_ to see that the seemingly impossible was _never_ really – simply – impossible.

After the last bag was packed, the girls all started hauling their luggage out to the car. Quinn quickly dropped her sunglasses down from the top of her head to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight. It was disgustingly hot outside, and she immediately felt herself begin to sweat.

"Nothing like searching for a Yeti in summertime, girls!" she playfully called out to Brittany and Santana as she carefully placed the last case in the back of her Jeep.

"Santana," Brittany's tone was one of sheer confusion as she hopped into the back of the vehicle, "why did I have to pack such warm clothes if it's summertime?"

Quinn started the Jeep and began the drive to the airport. "Because, babe," Santana replied, "we're going to the Himalayas, and it's frigging cold there."

"The hima-whatas?"

"Brittany, remember? We've gone the past three summers. We stayed with that lovely Tibetan family in India last time we were there. They made those dumplings that you loved?" Quinn tried to spark the girl's memory.

"Ohhh, right. The Abominable Snowman. I think he was on an episode of _Duck Tales_ once. Well, that's cool. I look hot in my _North Face_ clothes." Quinn sniggered at Brittany's response. The girl was _way _smarter than she acted sometimes. But whatever made Brittany happy made Santana happy, and if Santana was happy then Quinn sure as hell was happy too. So it hadn't taken long for Brittany's whimsical and free-spirited remarks to make little to no impact on Quinn. And Santana had become accustomed to Brittany's way of things long ago.

"Damn straight," Santana practically _purred_ from the front seat.

* * *

><p>It was their third day making the trek to what Quinn's research of the satellite generated topography had dubbed the best vantage point in the area. While the search for the Abominable Snowman had been going on for centuries, Quinn's crew was the only one in this region at the moment – most people just didn't think that summertime was a good time to catch a glimpse of the Yeti – so they didn't have to fight for the best seat in the house. Errrrr, <em>mountains<em> – the best seat in the _moutains_.

Silence descended on them as Brittany and Quinn used binoculars to scan the rocky landscape around them, searching for the slightest hint of a moving beast amongst the scraggly flora of the region. Santana had her computer equipment set up and was watching a plethora of mini-screens in front of her, monitoring for movement in any of the various camera locations they had setup on their first day on the mountainside.

That night when Quinn fell asleep, she dreamed of finding proof of the Yeti.

* * *

><p>A few days later, when the sun was already lowering through the sky to the western horizon and still they had not seen one hair off a Yeti's head, Quinn stood up and announced that she was going for a hike.<p>

"Be careful," Brittany said.

"Don't trip," Santana added.

Quinn held her camera firmly between her hands. It was on, charged, and ready to roll at the slightest sign of the mysterious cryptid that had been surrounded by legends, hoaxes, and insubstantial evidence for centuries. Quinn imagined the Yeti as being strong, fierce creatures – but creatures who, obviously, knew when to _hide_ rather than _seek_.

Snow crunched behind her, and Quinn immediately stilled her movements. Slowly, cautiously, she turned her shoulders in the direction of the noise. When she realized that it had been a low-hanging limb dropping its snow onto some more _snow_, she relaxed. But she also sighed.

_It would have been nice if it had been a Yeti_, Quinn thought. She continued walking, searching the ground around her for footprints or other evidence before it got too late to see or find her way back. _It also would have been nice if it had been the lovely Rachel, Rachel Berry._ Quinn suddenly stopped walking forward as she realized what exactly it was she had just thought. Rachel had talked of the universe aligning itself – or whatever – and Quinn had felt special. And while talk of _the universe aligning itself_ in order to bring the women _back _together was comforting and special and _romantic_, Quinn wasn't sure that she had enough room in her life for another _maybe_.

That night when Quinn fell asleep, she dreamed of the universe aligning itself once more.

* * *

><p>Their last day in the Himalayas began much as it had for the past three years. Santana and Brittany collected all of their equipment and began to pack up while Quinn stocked her backpack with supplies for the entire day. She headed out just before dawn broke – with her camera still clutched firmly between her hands and her optimism still intact, as always.<p>

Later that evening – when the winds would begin to blow and the temperatures would drop too low for them to brave the external environment any longer – the girls would find Quinn, and they would all drink _Kingfisher_ in their bedroom until they passed out on the mattress. Their limbs would tangle, and they would find warmth in each other. And Quinn's last thought was usually something along the lines of, "_Jebus, I really hope I don't wake up to them having sex on top of me. Again."_

Until then, however, Quinn continued trekking across the beautiful – cold, semi-treacherous, mostly-barren, but still-beautiful – area of the mountainside that she was _certain _would be prime habitat for the Yeti. All of her research pointed her here. But maybe it was time to reevaluate.

As Quinn was about to round the side of a cliff outcropping to get a glimpse of the other side – an area that she hadn't remembered exploring before on her previous visits – a resounding voice nearly made her lose her footing.

"I _told you_ the universe has a funny way of making epic love come to fruition." Quinn turned so fast that she nearly slipped again. And there Rachel was – looking adorably beautiful with her bright pink coat and pink fleece beanie with a strange ball of wool situated on top of her head. She was smiling radiantly as she shrugged her shoulders from side to side before adding, "Well, I said _something_ like that, at least."

"_The universe has this funny way of making things such as this work out_," Quinn quoted. It was cheesy, she knew. But there was something about the other girl that made resistance futile.

Rachel's smile broadened – if possible – as she took a step towards Quinn. "_Things such as this?"_ she questioned, playing along.

Quinn moved forward as well. They were right in front of each other now, and though Quinn delivered the next lines with a quiet, more reserved seriousness than Rachel had, they still rang true. "_Epic love in the making, _Rachel. _Epic. Love."_

When their lips met, the coldness of the mountain air ceased to touch them. Their mouths were hot and smooth against each other. Their hands were clutched in brown and blonde locks. Rachel's binoculars were gently making sweet, sweet transformer-like love to Quinn's camera, smooshed between their bodies.

"Of all the places and all the cryptids and all the locations in the entire world, what brings you here, Rachel, Rachel Berry?"

Rachel giggled. "Quinn, my darling, everyone knows that summertime is the best time to search for the elusive Yeti!" And then they were kissing again, and each one was wondering whether or not the other was experiencing the same fireworks display.

Just on the other side of the outcropping that Quinn had almost walked around, two creatures tiptoed quietly to the edge. They peeked their heads around the corner, one's head slightly below the other. Their eyebrows rose simultaneously at the sight of two _humans_ exchanging saliva in front of them. They quickly retracted themselves from the edge of the rock and began to sneak away.

"That was a close call, my Yeti," the smaller Yeti – apparently female – whispered to 'her Yeti' as she grabbed his hand in hers. Their rough, dark hair tangled together as they slunk around the corner.

"You're right, my Yeti. It was close indeed. We'll have to write to Sasquatch and tell him about it…"

* * *

><p>Later that night – with a couple dozen empty <em>Kingfisher <em>cans between them – the four girls lay sprawled out on the bed.

"How is it," Rachel hiccupped, "that I seem to only catch you just as you're leaving?" Her fingers – of their own volition, it seemed – drug their way up the inside of Quinn's arm, dancing across her exposed collarbone and down her other arm. Rachel then seemed to lose all strength as she plopped down across Quinn's chest.

"I'm not sure," Quinn said, not-so-subtly inhaling the sweet scent of Rachel's hair. "You're the one who's all _in touch with the universe_ and whatnot. You tell me."

Rachel giggled. "I think this was the universe's sign that we should officially become facebook friends." She snuggled closer to Quinn, pressing her head up under the other woman's chin.

"I uhh…" Quinn stammered momentarily.

"She doesn't have facebook," Brittany supplied for her.

"Yeah," Santana added. "She claims that only geeks have internet profiles."

Rachel immediately regained her strength. She propped herself up and looked down at Quinn. "_Really?_" she questioned.

Quinn blushed under the intensely adorable gaze of a seemingly fascinated Rachel Berry. She nodded twice in agreement with the other girls.

"Well, perhaps I will settle for your cell phone number…"

Santana snorted from her place on the floor. Her legs were straight up in the air and leaning against the mattress. Brittany giggled, and they were suddenly making out. Quinn and Rachel were too tipsy to realize exactly when Brittany had moved from across their legs and down to the floor, but they didn't particularly care.

"She's…she's joking, right? You _do_ have a cell phone, don't you, Quinn?"

Quinn was already well beyond your standard blush at this point. "It's just… I'm always either out in the field or at my computer researching. A cell phone was never practical."

"Well, I feel like a total creep saying this to you, Quinn, but you're going to have to exchange email addresses with me before you leave. The universe may have brought us together two times, but I'd prefer not to leave our third meeting up to chance." She smiled down at Quinn's beaming face underneath her before climbing astride her waist, dipping her head slowly down, and capturing the other woman's lips in a searing kiss.

When Rachel nearly slipped and fell off the edge of the bed multiple times during their teenage-like, giggle-filled make out session, Quinn tried to blame it on the alcohol. But several hours later – when their collective buzz was no longer anywhere in sight – Quinn came to the conclusion that it was just Rachel's inherent _clumsiness_ as the girl tripped and nearly fell while simply walking to the bathroom. She then ended up stubbing her toe on the jamb of the door, briefly eliciting a muffled howl of pain.

She reassured Quinn several times that "I'm ok! I'm ok!" before Quinn rolled back over, snuggling her face into the pillow Rachel's head had just vacated. A smile engulfed her facial features, and Quinn knew that leaving in the morning wasn't the _end_ of whatever exactly this craziness was. It was just the _beginning_ of the next chapter in their story, the story that had begun at Loch Ness.

* * *

><p>Their second goodbye was just as bittersweet as the first. But Quinn took comfort in knowing that the key to contacting Rachel resided on a piece of paper in her luggage. She took comfort knowing that something in her life – perhaps <em>finally <em>– was _certain. _ Or at least, as certain as things such as love can be.

Back home – after all of the equipment was unloaded, cleaned, and stored in its appropriate locations – Quinn sat down at her computer. She quickly consulted her calendar and made note of the location and dates of their next expedition before emailing the information to Rachel. And before she turned her computer off to go plop down on her bed and sleep for at least two days straight, she made a goddamned facebook profile.

* * *

><p><em>AN: At least six cryptids to go! Who will they search for next? Bigfoot? Chupacabra? Ogopogo? Jersey Devil? Another legendary creature entirely?_

…_No, seriously. Who will they search for next? Because I have no idea. Suggestions clearly welcome!_


	3. Chupacabra

_A/N: Yeah, the crack is coming out a little (read: A LOT) in this chapter. Fair warning!_

**Cryptid Proof  
><strong>**Creature #3: Chupacabra**

"_Seis tequilas, por favor!_" Santana called out to the bartender.

This was their sixth excursion to Mexico in the past three years. Something about the atmosphere - also, the booze - normally had Quinn's team coming back more than once a year. But they were definitely here with a purpose other than consuming mass amounts of hard liquor.

They would be searching for the chupacabra. Quite literally, _goat sucker_. It was easily Santana's favorite. But Quinn thought her infatuation with the search for this particular creature stemmed more directly from the connection to tequila than, well, the actual cryptid itself.

The bartender laid out six shot glasses and filled them all to the brim. Santana and Brittany had each grabbed two of them and were headed across the room when Quinn laid down the appropriate cash. "_Gracias_," she said sweetly, and the bartender winked at her before setting down two extra glasses and filling them to the brim. He picked one up and held it aloft. Quinn mimicked his actions, taking the free shot and clinking it lightly together with his before downing it on one go. "Woo!" She slammed the glass back down on the bar top, slapping her hand next to it before collecting her last two shots and following Santana and Brittany across the room.

In the following of traditions, this was how Mexico started out for them no matter what. Two shots of tequila each promptly followed by Brittany getting the entire room to sing along to whatever absurd song she could come up with. And it always amazed and greatly humored Quinn how it didn't matter _which_ part of Mexico they were in, what bar, what city - _everyone _knows Garth Brooks.

"Alright ladies, here's to spotting the infamous chupacabra, once and for all!"

"Hear, hear!" Santana chimed in.

In unison, the three women picked up their shots, slammed them back, and slammed them down.

"_Ow ow!_" Brittany exclaimed in between shots, and then they were taking their second shots - Quinn's third.

"Jesus H. Christ," Quinn grimaced, "tequila never tastes any better, does it?"

Santana laughed and wrapped a hand around Brittany's waist. "Are you kidding?" she exclaimed. "Tequila is fucking _awesome!_"

Before they could discuss their next move - _more tequila or juke box sing-alongs or ridiculous drinking games to pretend like they were still twenty-one years old_ - cheers rose up from the other side of the bar. Quinn's ears perked up, and she twisted her body on her seat to try and get a glimpse of the cause of the commotion. Her back pressed against the table behind her, and she rested her hands on her jean-covered thighs.

Quinn caught sight of someone from the bar ducking down and popping back up, a microphone now in their hand. They tossed it down the counter where another person caught it and passed it on again. Quinn followed its progression until it disappeared in a mass of twenty or so bodies, landing somewhere in the middle. The speakers crackled to life, and Quinn couldn't help the grin that slipped onto her face as the familiar track began to play.

But then, instead of Gloria's voice, Quinn heard a voice that she had only been hearing in her dreams as of late.

"_First I was afraid, I was petrified!_" The bar rose up in cheers, and Quinn was already swooning - and was immensely thankful for the seat beneath her. "_Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side. But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along! And so you're back, from outer space! I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face._"

"Whoa whoa whoa, _hold up_," Santana said from somewhere behind Quinn. "Is that _Berry?_"

The smile on Quinn's face was almost embarrassingly huge already.

"_I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key. If I had known for just one second, you'd be back to bother me!"_

The crowd was still cheering and singing along raucously, but they were suddenly parting like the waves in a Charlton Heston film. And there in the middle of the parting masses was Rachel, Rachel Berry. And her eyes were already set on Quinn.

"_Go on now, go! Walk out the door! Just turn around now, cause you're not welcome anymore. Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? You think I'd crumble? You think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I!_" Rachel gestured cutely between herself and Quinn, and Quinn just raised her eyebrows and shook her head while playfully pointing towards her own chest. Rachel winked as she got closer and closer, and Quinn couldn't believe how much she had missed this girl. "_I will survive! As long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive. I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give. And I'll survive - I will survive!"_

The song continued with the crowd around them clapping and singing along and generally behaving like the drunken miscreants they were. But the focus of Quinn's world had distinctly narrowed to the beautiful brunette with the glorious singing voice in front of her.

"_It took all the strength I had not to fall apart, kept trying hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart. And I spent oh so many nights just feeling sorry for myself. I used to cry... But now I hold my head up high! And you see me, somebody new. I'm not that chained up little person still in love with you. And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free, now I'm saving all my loving for someone who's loving me!"_

As Rachel sang the words, she began to dance around Quinn on her stool. The blonde was sure her cheeks were flaming red at that point, but she also knew that _she_ was the person who Rachel was saving all of her love for. And Quinn's heart swelled up with pride as she eyed the electrifying diva (_who knew?_) working her way around the blonde's table. Rachel shook her ass in Brittany's direction, and the girl playfully slapped it - which elicited Santana to audibly growl and pull Brittany in for a kiss.

Rachel made her way back around the table, and Quinn caught herself mentally sending the little brunette waves of grace - because her heels looked dangerously tall, and Rachel never had been the best at walking.

A couple of choruses later, and the song was finished. The entirety of the bar broke out into a cacophony of cheers and applause and wolf-whistles in Rachel's direction. She turned briefly from Quinn and gave the crowd two or three sweeping bows. Before Quinn could even gain the higher brain power to step forward and pull her girlfriend - her _girlfriend_ - into a bone-crushingly tight embrace, Brittany was bounding forward.

"That was awesome, Rach!" she proclaimed, hugging Rachel around the shoulders. Rachel laughed, returning the hug. Brittany pulled back and pecked the other girl lightly on the cheek before snatching the microphone out of her hands and turning back to Santana. "Excuse me, Miss Lopez," she whispered huskily into the microphone. Quinn saw Santana's gulp from her position on the chair. "Would you do me the honor of singing with me?"

The crowd cheered, and Brittany grabbed Santana's hand, dragging her across the room to the jukebox.

With Brittana - as Quinn so affectionately called them in her head when she didn't want to take the time to say both of their names - gone, Quinn was finally able to focus on Rachel. The brunette's cheeks were flushed from her performance, and Quinn had never seen her look so stunningly beautiful before.

"Chupacabra hunting in early autumn, my darling Quinn?" Rachel purred, moving forward to stand between Quinn's legs.

Quinn bit her lip as Rachel's arms snaked around her neck. She nodded. "Indeed, Miss Rachel, Rachel Berry."

"It looks like the universe has brought us together once again," Rachel whispered. And despite the noise level in the bar, Quinn heard every word - because Rachel's lips were already practically pressed against hers.

"Actually," Quinn whispered back just as softly, "I think it was American Airlines this time."

Rachel smiled and her eyes locked with Quinn's. "Shut up and kiss me."

And as Brittany and Santana jumped right into the chorus, singing, "_Cause I've got friends in low places - where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away. And I'll be okay. Yeahhh, I'm not big on social graces, think I'll slip on down to the oasis! Oh, I've got friends in low places," _Quinn and Rachel's lips fused together for the first time in months - but not for the last time over the course of the next two weeks.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere on the Other Side of Town - Probably in a Field or Something Shady Like That<strong>

"Look, Squatch, your _Best of Barbra _CD collection is _not _sufficient for the ante!" Chupa Cabra said to his old friend. "We go through this every year..."

Big Foot shook his head miserably. "Come on, Chupa! Spot me a sheep this one time. The missus barely even let me out of the house this year!"

"Hurry it up over there, will ya!" Hodag - possibly the ugliest of all the players - yelled from the far side of the poker table.

"I concurrrr," the Creature (from the black lagoon) slurred through a mouthful of slime.

The Jersey Devil snapped his fingers. "Listen, _boys_, I have rehearsal for _Guys and Dolls_ three days from now at home. Let's get this game started so I don't have to be late."

Chupa, Sasquatch, Hodag, and the Jersey Devil all finally took their seats - Chupa having spotted the Squatch a couple head of livestock to get him started. Also, kittens.

**Three hours later...**

Hodag narrowed his eyes - or at least, the skin crinkled oddly around the place where they _thought_ his eyes were. "Chupa," he hissed, "I don't like feeling _cheated_."

Chupa lazily blinked his humongous, shiny black eyes in the other creature's direction. "My friend, do I _look_ like I would _cheat you?_" Everyone at the table turned their heads in the chupacabra's direction, taking in his spiky appearance, his sharp claws, and the fangs that protruded from his lips. "Err..." he trailed off, his bulbous eyes again blinking into the darkness. "Fine. I probably fit the profile. But I didn't cheat! Those twelve kittens are totally mine, fair and square."

"Let'ssss just call it quitssss before ssssomeone getssss...upsssset," the Creature said. He normally _was_ the voice of reason.

Sasquatch nodded vehemently. "Agreed. I really don't want to get blood on my new Marc Jacobs." He gestured down at his white high tops. "Totally stole them from some camper last week." He received a round of highfives.

The other cryptids cleared out, and Chupa found himself alone with his loot - fourteen kittens, Squatch's Barbra collection, a trout, and one goat. The moonlight illuminated the goat's face, and Chupa licked his lips. The goat '_bahhh_'d pitifully before opening its mouth and asking, "You're not seriously going to eat me, are you?"

"Of course not!" Chupa threw his arms up in the air. "I don't _eat_ livestock. I'll just drain your blood. I'm single, you know - so I need to maintain my stunning figure."

The goat just continued to chew on its mouthful of grass with a despondently bored look on its face.

Suddenly, a spotlight swept the area. A farmer checking his livestock or something else completely absurd and hopelessly inconvenient. Chupa realized that he had to _run_ or else risked being discovered. And after decades of eluding capture, he wasn't about to be found out _now_ because he refused to leave behind his poker winnings. "It's your lucky day, Mr. Goat!" And then he was bounding away into the darkness.

He even forgot all of his kittens.

* * *

><p>Their last night in Mexico found all four women back at the bar where they had spent their first night of this particular expedition. Over the past two weeks, they had spent their nights staking out prime livestock locations and their days pouring over night-vision footage. But they had found nothing - unless you counted the random stack of playing cards out in the middle of a field next to a picnic basket full of kittens. They had taken the kittens into town, handing them out to children. It had been odd, but they hadn't allowed themselves to dwell on it for any particularly lengthy amount of time.<p>

"_Ocho tequilas, por favor!_" Santana's knowledge of Spanish consisted primarily of insults and tequila orders.

She grabbed the tray of shots and carried it over to their table in the corner of the bar. Brittany was dancing to whatever song was playing on the jukebox, and Quinn and Rachel were sitting close together, knees touching and heads bowed close as they whispered to each other. Santana rolled her eyes at the adorableness of it all.

"Shots!" she yelled.

"Why, thank you, Santana! I don't mind if I do," Rachel replied, reluctantly pulling away from Quinn just enough to grab each of them a tall shot of tequila.

Santana handed Brittany a shot and took one for herself. Suddenly, Brittany squealed and giggled and jumped up and down in merriment. "San, look! I totally got the worm!"

A few rounds of shots later in the evening, and Rachel was tipsily wobbling her way to the jukebox. She dropped in the necessary coins, punched the appropriate buttons, and then turned around, leaning heavily against the machine. Her head began to nod back and forth with the harmonica that was emitting from the speakers. People cheered, and the bar's (apparently lone) microphone was suddenly being passed out to Rachel again.

She happily took it in her hands and began to sing. "_It's nine o'clock on a Saturday. The regular crowd shuffles in. There's an old man sitting next to me, making love to his tonic and gin." _Rachel started moving through the crowd, giving hugs to strangers at random. Quinn met her in the middle of the floor, ready to catch her at a moment's notice if she should falter. "_He says: son, can you play me a memory? I'm not really sure how it goes... But it's sad and it's sweet, and I knew it complete, when I wore a younger man's clothes!"_

Rachel pulled Quinn flush against her body, wrapping her hand up into the nape of Quinn's neck. The microphone rested between them, and they sang together, "_La la la, di dee da. La la di dee daaaaa, da dum."_

Santana and Brittany walked out onto the floor with their arms around one another. They approached Faberry - as they often referred to Quinn and Rachel when drunk - and Rachel tossed Santana the microphone. Together, Brittana sang, "_Sing us a song, you're the piano man. Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feeling alright!"_

Lyrics poured softly from Rachel's lips to Quinn's, and the world managed to almost pass them by entirely as the night wore on. Because they would be saying goodbye again in the morning, and it was almost too painful to bear.

"I'll see you again soon, right?" Quinn whispered against the perfectly soft, smooth skin of Rachel's cheek.

Tinkling laughter echoed in Quinn's ear, and she knew she would never be complete as long as she was apart from this woman in her arms. "You haven't seen the last of me yet, Quinn Fabray."

"_Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free. And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke, but there's someplace that he'd rather be..."_

Together, all four of the girls - affectionately referred to as Faberrittana by this author - finished the verse together. "_He says: Bill, I believe this is killing me, as a smile ran away from his face. Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star, if I could get out of this place!"_

Eventually, the song faded to a close. Eventually, the tequila began to wear off. Eventually, Quinn and Rachel said goodbye - with fervent, passionate kisses and whispered '_I love you_'s between them. But they knew it wasn't the end of their love affair born in the rolling Scottish highlands.

No, it wasn't quite the end. Because there were plenty more legendary creatures to search for together before all was said and done.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This story... It's so absurd. I kind of love writing it. Hope you enjoyed reading it. ;-)_


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